


Advent: Day

by FyrMaiden



Series: Klaine Advent 2015 [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 22:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5351096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FyrMaiden/pseuds/FyrMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine's people live by the sun, and Kurt's by the moon. They're with Kurt's people for the winter, whilst Kurt performs the ceremony that will make him a man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advent: Day

The sun sinks slowly over the horizon, flaring orange and purple and finally green as it disappears, and Blaine watches it from the roof of the building as it vanishes past the distant horizon. Despite the warmth of the cha clutched between his hands, he feels the chill that settles into his bones, leaching his lifeforce and his magic with it. He shivers, and stands the cup on the airbrick wall in front of him, designed as it is to keep what warmth is generated by the brief sun in, and draws his wrap closer around him, holding the the heavy, close-woven wool fast with his belt. He gathers his cup into his hands, and takes a sip of the cha inside. As it always does, the deep orange liquid swirls slowly down his throat, and stokes the embers of the day, keeps them alive for the night. With the waning of the day, Blaine’s magic starts to ebb, the way it does for all of his people.

Blaine has been luckier than many, though. His lifemate is Lauxnos; as Blaine’s magic fades, Kurt’s comes alive. As the blues deepen into purple and the moon begins to shine overhead, Kurt’s magic starts to glow, turning the pale white of his body to shimmering silver and the blue of his eyes into pinprick stars. As the sun disappears and the moon crowds the sky, low and heavy and full of secrets, Kurt’s magic comes into itself, and between them, they ensure that the other is never alone.

Blaine shivers. The winters are long here, amongst Kurt’s people. He has his heaviest clothes he could pack, and his feet are wrapped in more layers of wool and paper. Kurt’s father - one of the burliest men Blaine has ever seen, and yet still kinder in his temperament than Blaine’s own father is - doesn’t understand why Blaine won’t just wrap himself in hide, the way their people do, especially when he’s so cold so much of the time up here in the Northlands. Blaine can’t make him see that he can’t wrap himself in something else’s skin - 

He sips at his cha, and watches the blue of the dark race between the buildings. His vision starts to blur and crack with the ebb of light, but he sees the day creatures disappearing into their hiding places, and thinks that soon he must do the same. 

The door behind him creaks open, and Blaine turns his head. It’s only Kurt, come to bring him back into the warmth, to sit him beside the crackle of the flames before he goes out to see to his own business. This year - Kurt’s 21st - he must chase the last full winter moon across the sky. They’re lucky, Blaine can see. The night is cloudless, and the stars large, and already - despite the hour - Kurt’s skin is luminous, the same way Blaine’s is when they summer with his people before roaming north again. Next summer, he will perform his own fire walk, and once that is complete, he will be able to seal his bond with Kurt completely. But first there is this night, and Kurt’s ritual.

“Are you ready?” he asks, as Kurt comes to him and wraps his arms around him. His hands burn with the sunlight, the starlight, reflecting from the moon to his skin. Blaine shivers, and Kurt’s hands work their way inside of Blaine’s woolen tunic to heat his skin. 

“No,” Kurt says, honestly. People have died doing this, but it’s a risk that they all must take. He looks up at the moon, at its old face winking down on the two of them, and then at Blaine, who touches one night-cold hand to Kurt’s beautiful face.

“I wish you had come sooner,” he says. “When I still had light to give you.” 

Kurt smiles and inclines his head. Removing his hands from Blaine’s skin, he wraps them instead around his cup, warming the liquid inside. “Drink your drink, Blaine,” he says. “We’ll have every one of your days, starting tomorrow.”

Blaine presses his lips into a line, and turns his fading focus back to the moon, and then - handing his cup to Kurt - fishes in his hip bag for his glasses. He takes back his cup, and drinks the last of the cha, feels the sunlight warm his insides. “It’s cold tonight,” he says, and Kurt nods. 

“There’s more of that indoors, though. Come,” he takes Blaine’s hand. 

The night is long without Kurt. The hot amber of his cha is less and less efficient as the night draws into morning. His brother offers him dried fish, and Blaine shakes his head. He’s explained before that he doesn’t eat meat, but they don’t seem to think that dried fish counts. Blaine isn’t offended, but he’s cold. In his own lands, the night doesn’t last this long. Not so long that his own fires burn almost to ashes. He feels grey. Not like the blue grey of dawn, but the cold grey of forever. Just as he starts to give up, to let his eyes close, he hears the first barking of the dogs and the crackle of the sun as its begins its short ascension, and he feels relief settle inside of him as Kurt crashes through the door and settles on his heels in front of him, his night warm hands hot on Blaine’s frozen skin.

“Was I too long?” he asks, and Blaine shakes his head but can’t answer, not yet. Kurt’s father stomps his boots in the doorway, and chases the dogs back out into the morning. 

“Almost,” his mother says, her voice kind as she pours more cha into Blaine’s cup and helps him to drink it. “But he’s still with you.”

Kurt stands and throws open the shutters on the windows, lets the morning in as the night leaves his skin. Blaine feels the day grow warm in his body, and he blinks sleepily. Kurt turns toward him and smiles, and Blaine smiles slowly himself, as Kurt’s outline comes slowly into focus again.

“You made it,” he says and Kurt laughs, still musical with the moon in him yet. 

“I made it,” he says, and tugs Blaine upright. “And now I’m all yours.” 

“Fearlessly and forever,” Blaine says, and kisses his cheek with lips that are warming already.


End file.
